


Mall Rats

by MrTyeDye



Category: The Loud House (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, General fiction, Literature, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 03:51:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13989876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrTyeDye/pseuds/MrTyeDye
Summary: Lincoln spends the day at the mall with Leni- and in the process, learns that there might be more to his ditzy big sister than he thought.





	1. Prelude to a Shopping Spree

Ah, Saturday mornings. That tiny little window of time during the week would always hold a special place in Lincoln's heart. It was a time for lounging on the couch in his pajamas, eating a big bowl of Zombie Bran, and greeting the Loud sisters as they emerged from their bedrooms, one by one. He had a bit of homework to do this weekend, but for now, he had ample time to be a lazy slug.

…or so he thought.

"Liiiincoln!" sang a voice from the second floor. Lincoln looked back to see Leni fully dressed with her purse over her shoulder, bounding down the stairs. This struck Lincoln as a little odd; while Leni was a bubbly girl, she wasn't generally a morning person, at least not until she had her coffee.

"Hey, Leni," he said with a yawn. "Excited for today?"

"You bet!" she chirped, beaming down at her little brother. "I've got a big day planned for us!"

"Well, have fu- wait, for  _us_?"

Lincoln sat up and tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "Us, as in you and me?"

"Uh-huh!"

Leni opened her purse and started digging through it. "I was hoping I could cash in one of my coupons today!"

Lincoln had to stifle a groan.  _Oh, right. The coupons_.

* * *

Last December, Lincoln made the mistake of putting off his holiday shopping until the last week. Fortunately, after an exhausting shopping spree at the holiday fair the day before Christmas Eve, he managed to find a gift for each one of his sisters… except for Leni. There was a dress at the fair that he knew she would love, but someone snatched it up before he did. Having run out of time and options, he went home, grabbed some construction paper, and cobbled together a cheap- but in his mind, thoughtful- gift.

Leni, much to Lincoln's chagrin, decided to save his gift for last- and she had already received a fully stocked sewing kit from Luna, so he had a tough act to follow. She tore open Lincoln's box to see a multicolored construction paper book bound together with staples, that read "COUPONS" on the cover.

"Coupons?" asked Leni.

"Yeah!" said Lincoln, trying to sound enthusiastic. "It's a book of coupons I made just for you. Whenever you need a favor from me, just cash one in, and I'll do it- no questions asked!"

Leni started to flip through it, reading the coupons aloud as she did. "Free hug from Lincoln... Lincoln does your chores for the day... free sandwich from Lincoln... freestyle rap from Lincoln (any subject)... Lincoln does your homework…"

Lori shot Lincoln a pointed glare. " _Wow_ , Lincoln. You've given us some lame gifts before, but this is literally the-"

"Oh, Lincoln, I love it!" cried Leni, dropping the book and giving Lincoln a squeeze. "Thank you so much!"

Lincoln's heart swelled with pride as he hugged Leni back. With some quick thinking and ingenuity, he had managed to make his sister the happiest girl in the Loud House- and all without spending a dime, to boot.

Which brings us to today…

* * *

"Ah, here it is!"

Leni pulled a pink slip of construction paper out of her purse and held it aloft. On the front, it said "ONE DAY OF SHOPPING WITH LINCOLN" in black permanent marker.

"I was thinking we could, like, hit up the mall today. It'll be fun! What do you say?"

Lincoln sighed, wolfed down the last few bites of Zombie Bran, and forced himself onto his feet.

"Yeah, sure," muttered Lincoln, ambling towards the stairs. "Just lemme get dressed."

Lincoln knew he didn't have a choice. His track record when it came to keeping promises was a little iffy, but he never,  _ever_ broke a promise that he made on Christmas. Besides, if he tried to renege on this promise, it would defeat the entire purpose of the gift. So for the rest of the year, whenever Leni needed a favor, he was bound to do it without question.

"Don't take too long!" Leni called after him. "Lori's already revving up the van!"

That warning sent Lincoln into overdrive. If Mom or Dad were driving them, he could have afforded to take his time, but Lori wasn't someone you wanted to keep waiting. He bounded up the stairs, got dressed, brushed his teeth, combed his hair and strode back down, with the ruthless efficiency that he usually reserved for busy school mornings. While he pulled it all off without missing a beat, he couldn't help but resent the fact that he was forced to be awake and alert this early on a Saturday. (That said, "early" was a relative term here, as it was already a quarter to 10 by the time he hopped into Vanzilla.)

For what it was worth, Lincoln rather enjoyed the fifteen-minute drive over. Since the only other two passengers were Lori (who was driving) and Leni (who was riding shotgun), he had the entire rest of the van to himself, including the coveted "Sweet Spot". This meant that he didn't have to put up with the usual aggravations that Loud family car rides entailed, and he had more than enough space to lie down across the seats and take a nap. It was almost enough to make him wish that the mall was just a little farther away.

Alas, Lincoln let himself get a little  _too_ comfortable. His nap was abruptly interrupted when Lori grabbed him by the wrist, jerked him out of the car and marched him to the curb, where Leni was waiting for him. The first sight he was greeted with when he fully opened his eyes was the domineering gaze of his oldest sister.

"All right, twerps, listen up, because I'm only going to say this once," began Lori, staring down her two younger siblings. "It is now 10:00 a.m. You have exactly four hours and thirty minutes to complete your shopping. You will meet me back here at no later than 2:30 p.m., and it will be  _your_ responsibility to make sure that all of your merchandise is accounted for.  _Is that clear_?"

"Yes, ma'am," Lincoln and Leni responded in unison.

"Good," said Lori. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some shopping of my own to do."

With that, she strode up to the front gate and disappeared behind the glass automatic doors.

"What's with her?" asked Lincoln, once he was confident that Lori was out of earshot.

"Oh, she just has a busy day today. After our shopping trip she has to pick up Luan from her improv class, and then once she gets home she has a date with Bobby to prepare for."

 _Of course she does_ , thought Lincoln. When  _didn't_ she have a date with Bobby to prepare for?

"Anyway, let's get moving! We've got a lot to do today!"

And so, the two of them walked up to the front gate, ready to begin their journey. Lincoln had no idea what Leni had planned for the two of them, but he wasn't particularly anxious. While he didn't like shopping, he  _did_ like to make Leni happy, and he usually got along with her pretty well. How bad could a four and a half hour shopping spree be?


	2. Kindness, Friendship and Shoes

Lincoln and Leni walked up to the front gate, ready to begin their journey. Before entering, they waited for the automatic doors to open completely, just to savor the refreshing blast of cool air escaping through the opening. The two of them shared a harmonious, contented sigh.  _Ahh, air conditioning. Where would we be without it?_

As they entered, Leni retrieved what looked like a shopping list from her purse and started looking it over. "Okay, Lincoln, the first thing we gotta do is stop off at Shoe to Thrill. This girl needs a new pair of heels!"

Lincoln rolled his eyes. He had spent his entire life surrounded by girls, and he still didn't get why they were so infatuated with shoes. Dresses and jeans he could understand, but shoes? What kind of weirdo would judge someone else by what they were wearing on their feet?

Even so, a promise was a promise, so he didn't object. After Leni deposited the slip back into her purse, Lincoln took her by the hand and they started making their way through the shopping center. Along the way, he'd give her the occasional little tug to keep her from bumping into walls, kiosks or other shoppers.

Before long, they arrived at the front window of the store, which read "Shoe-to-Thrill" in hot pink, cursive letters. The display windows each sported a row of fancy designer shoes- which, honestly, all looked the same to Lincoln. Oh, sure, they were different colors and sizes, and some were flats while others were heels, but he couldn't tell you what made one pair better than another.

They walked inside to see a regal, red velvet- carpeted shop, stocked with aisles upon aisles of shoes. Each aisle was occupied by crowds of women (and a few well-dressed men) with shoes in their hands, turning them around and examining them from every angle as if they were paleontologists examining newfound fossils. At the far right end of the store was a counter manned by a middle-aged lady with a nut-brown perm and ruby earrings. Her dry lips were pursed into a tight, flat line as she rang up customer after customer.

"Hi, Martha!" Leni called from the store entrance.

The middle-aged lady looked towards the door, and her face lit up almost immediately. "Oh, hello, Leni!" she called. "Come on over!"

Leni walked Lincoln to the counter, where Martha was greeting them with an amiable smile. "And who's this little guy?" she asked.

"Oh, this is my little brother, Lincoln," said Leni. "He's gonna be my shopping assistant today!"

Lincoln gulped. He didn't know what being a "shopping assistant" entailed, and at this point, he was afraid to ask.

"Lucky him!" Martha said with a laugh, which did nothing to calm his nerves. "I'm a little tied up right now, so I can't talk much, but feel free to take a look around!"

Martha's smile dimmed a little as she turned her attention back to her customer in line: a crop top-clad college girl with dirty blonde hair, a spray tan and her lips locked into a perma-sneer. Leni and Lincoln gave Martha a sympathetic glance before joining hands and walking to the end of the store.

"You know her?" asked Lincoln.

"Oh, sure. I've been coming here for new shoes since I was your age. Younger, even!"

Soon, the two of them arrived at a narrow aisle in the back, marked by a sign that read "Women's Heels" in the same fancy font as the sign outside.

"Anyway, I'm gonna want something that's bold, but casual," she said as she took a seat on the fitting bench. "Something that says, 'Hey, I'm a girl who likes to have fun! But I'm not, like, super strict about it.'"

 _How can you be strict about having fun?,_ thought Lincoln. _Eh, whatever. Don't question it._

Lincoln scanned his eyes back and forth across the heels displayed on the rack, looking for the first pair that caught his eye. As he searched, he repeated the words "bold" and "casual" in his head over and over again. Eventually, he came across a pair of smoky maroon velvet pumps with no straps and closed toes. They looked a bit like the ruby slippers from  _The Wizard of Oz_ , albeit with a more muted color tone. In that regard, they certainly looked bold, and what could be more casual than a shoe you could put on without using your hands?

"How about these?" asked Lincoln, as he snatched the pumps off the shelf and handed them to Leni.

She held both of them up to her face, inspecting every detail. After thirty tedious seconds of hemming and hawing, she finally came to a verdict. "Hmm... I don't know about these."

_Dang it. Back to the drawing board, I guess. What was wrong with those, anyway?_

"Why don't you like them?" he asked, in the hopes that maybe her opinion could be swayed.

"It's not that I don't like them. Like, on their own, they're nice shoes. But they just don't go with my top at all."

"...oh," muttered Lincoln, a little sheepish that he made such an obvious fashion mistake. He took the shoes out of Leni's hands and began to return them to the shelf, when Leni lunged forward and clamped her hands over his wrists.

"On the other hand," she said, her face lighting up, "I  _did_ see a really cute tan romper in the window at Penelope's Pitstop on our way over here, and these would go  _great_ with that!"

A moment later, her smile evaporated just as quickly as it formed, and she released her grip on Lincoln's wrists. "But on the  _other_ hand," she pondered, rubbing her chin, "the romper wouldn't go well with the white belt I bought the other day. Hmm.."

_Oh, dear lord, this is going to take an eternity._

"See, Linky, there's a lot of strategy involved here. It's like Rock-Paper-Scissors."

She took the maroon heels out of Lincoln's hands and set them down on the floor. "So let's set these aside for now, and keep looking. Maybe we'll find another pair that's even better."

Lincoln sighed, stood up and started browsing the racks again. The next few minutes had him pulling shoe after shoe off the rack and showing them to Leni, only to have her dismiss them each in two to five words.

"Too summery."

"Too urban."

"Too sheer."

"Too avant-garde."

"Too long after Labor Day."

Lincoln's patience wore thinner and thinner as each successive pair was turned down. As he was reshelving a perfectly nice pair of orange suede platform shoes that she dismissed as "too German" (!?), he realized that he was reaching his limit.  _What's the use? Every time I show her a pair, she turns it down flat._

_...wait, that's it! Flats!_

With a burgeoning smile on his face, Lincoln shoved the platform shoes back onto the rack and swiveled around to face his sister. "Hey, Leni, you have a pair of flats at home, right?"

"Yeah, like, a few," said Leni. "But we're looking for heels."

"I know, I know, but bear with me here. What color are they?"

"One pair is black, one is white, and one is zebra. Why?"

"Leni, listen. Your new heels don't have to match your white belt. You can pair the white belt with your teal dress, and wear your white flats with those. Then, on other days, you can wear your new heels with the romper. You'll have two different outfits!"

Leni gasped. "Lincoln, you're a  _genius_!" she cried.

"Thanks, I try," Lincoln said with a chuckle. It wasn't the first time he had heard that line from Leni, and it probably wouldn't be the last. "I take it this means you're getting the pumps?"

"Like, yeah _,_ but lemme just try them on first," she said, beginning to take off her shoe.

"Wait!" Lincoln interjected.

"Hmm?"

Lincoln stood up straight and performed a sweeping, theatrical bow. "Allow me," he said in a faux mid-Atlantic accent. He then knelt down, slid Leni's old shoes off her feet, and slid the new maroon heels on in their place, with all the care and delicateness of a butler.

His hammy performance elicited a giggle from his big sister. "Oh, Linky, you're adorable."

Lincoln blushed, looked away and clasped his hand over his mouth, trying to hide his growing grin. At age eleven, he was starting to feel ambivalent about being called "adorable". It still made him giddy, but he knew in the back of his mind that it wasn't what a boy was supposed to be. Regardless, he knew that Leni meant well, so he just took the compliment.

While he was still reeling, Leni started walking up and down the aisle, testing out her new shoes. "Not bad," she said. "Comfy, easy to wear... I think this settles it, Linky. Let's get in line!"

With that, she changed back into her old shoes, put the pumps back in their box, and hurried to the back of the line- which, thankfully, wasn't too long. Peering ahead, she and Lincoln could see that Martha was still manning the counter, and still wearing that dour expression that they saw when they first came in. Rarely did a customer have more than a couple words to say to her, and when they did, they didn't smile.

"Doesn't seem like she's too happy here," observed Lincoln.

"Well, she works in retail, Lincoln," said Leni. "That means she has to deal with a lot of snobs and mean people. It's not a fun job."

Lincoln looked back across the line to see Martha helping an affluent-looking couple in their early thirties. After paying for their merchandise, they simply snatched it up and walked out the store, without so much as a "thank you".

"Geez, that's awful," said Lincoln. "I wish there was something we could do to help her."

"There is!" said Leni, breaking out into a smile. "Just be the best customer you can be. That's what I try to do."

"And how is that?"

"Well, you know, I smile at her, compliment her, say 'thank you' and 'have a nice day', that sort of thing. Sometimes I'll have a little chat if the line behind me isn't too long. A little niceness goes a long way!"

Lincoln felt a pang of guilt as he recalled all the times he interacted with mall cashiers. He wasn't exactly  _un_ friendly to them, but he wasn't the ray of sunshine that Leni was, either. If he had only known how lousy their lives were, maybe he would have been.

He looked back up to see that he and Leni were approaching the front of the line. Sensing his chance to redeem himself, he forced the guilt out of his mind and replaced it with a firm determination to change his ways. As soon as the customer in front of them left the line, he strode up to the counter with a spring in his step.

"Good morning!" he sang, slapping the shoebox onto the counter.

Martha's face brightened up as she saw the two Louds approach the counter. "And a good morning to you, young man," she said, beaming down at Lincoln. "Did you find everything you were looking for?"

"Sure did," said Leni as she plucked her wallet out of her purse and retrieved her credit card. "Lincoln here helped me pick out a new pair of heels!"

Martha lifted the lid of the shoebox and peeked under it. "Well, he certainly has good taste!" she remarked. "You're going to look  _fabulous_ in these, darling."

She took the credit card out of Leni's hand and swiped it through the machine. "So, what's the occasion?" she asked as she printed out the receipt. "Got a big night planned?"

"Nah, I just needed a new pair," said Leni. "My old ones were getting pretty worn out."

Martha peered over the counter to get a look at Leni's heel-clad feet, and her eyes widened with surprise. "I'll say! Those things are practically falling apart! It's a good thing you came to me when you did."

With that, she bagged up the shoes and the receipt and handed them off to Lincoln. "You have yourself a good day, dearie."

"You, too!" Lincoln chirped. "And thank you!"

As they left the store, Lincoln glanced back over his shoulder to see Martha waving goodbye to them. The sight gave him a warm, tingly sensation growing in his heart: the same feeling he got when he received a hug from a loved one, or an A+ on a test.

"So what's next on the agenda?" asked Lincoln.

"Penelope's Pitstop, of course!" replied Leni. "Like, I've gotta snatch up that romper before someone else-"

"LENI!"

Just after the two of them walked out the door, they heard a voice call out Leni's name from a few feet away. They looked up to see a redheaded girl about Leni's age, decked out in hiphugger jeans and a white tank top that stopped just above her belly button.

"Erin?!" cried Leni. The two girls broke into excited grins, and they charged at each other and embraced.

"Like, what is  _up_ , girlfriend?" asked Erin. "You didn't tell me you'd be shopping here today!"

"I know, I know," said Leni, releasing the hug. "It was kind of a last minute thing. Like, I woke up this morning and it just felt like a shopping day. Know what I'm saying?"

" _T_ _otally_ , girl. Sometimes you just gotta treat yourself!"

Erin took a moment to flip her fiery locks out of her eyes before turning her attention to the younger Loud. "Who's the kid?"

"Oh, that's my brother, Lincoln. He's shopping with me today."

Erin gasped and threw her hands over her freckled cheeks. " _This_ is little Lincoln?!"

"Sure is!" said Leni.

"Leni, he's to  _die_ for!"

She bent down and started running her fingers through Lincoln's frosty white hair, eliciting another blush from him. "Aren't you just the cutest little thing!"

There it was again. Was he  _really_ that adorable? Lord knows, he wasn't trying to be.

"Lincoln, this is Erin," said Leni. "We met last September when we got partnered up for a lab project."

"And we've been BFFs ever since!" added Erin.

"Um,  _best_ BFFs," corrected Leni. "We never would've gotten through that class if we didn't have each other!...speaking of which, have you started the chem homework yet?"

"Nah, I haven't gotten around to it," said Erin. "Have you?"

Leni frowned. "I've tried, but I don't even know where to start," she said. "It's, like, really hard. You think maybe you could come over tonight and help me out with it?"

Erin shook her head. "Sorry, Leni, not tonight. I'm going to the movies with Craig."

"Craig?" asked Leni, narrowing her eyes. "I thought you broke up with him last month."

"I know, but he promised he would change. Like, for real this time."

Leni groaned and rolled her eyes. "Come  _on_ , Erin. You're really giving him another chance? He's just gonna hurt you again. Also, I was talking to Todd the other day, and he said that Craig was  _blah blah blah blah blah like blah blah blah like blah blah blah blah blah blah blah like..._ "

At that point, Leni and Erin's conversation devolved into a mess of high school drama and names that Lincoln didn't recognize, so he just tuned them out. He'd smile and nod at them if he heard one of them mention his name, but other than that, he took the opportunity to zone out and let his eyes wander around the mall.

In the midst of his daydreaming, he caught a glimpse of three boys who looked vaguely familiar: one tall and lean, one short and stocky, one with an average build, and all with shaved heads and deep tans.  _I know I've seen them somewhere before_ _,_ he thought.  _But where?_ _From school? No, then I'd at least know their names. The arcade? No, I know most of the regulars there too. Hmm..._

The answer hit Lincoln like a bag of hammers as soon as he got a good look at what they were wearing. All three of them were clad in matching red and orange jerseys.

Red and orange. The colors of the Royal Woods Roosters.

The team that Lincoln pissed off  _royally_ when he accidentally scored for the opposing team, costing them the game.

And they were getting dangerously close.

Lincoln couldn't be sure whether or not they were still mad, but he wasn't going to take that chance. "Um, Leni?" he uttered, tugging on his big sister's sleeve. "We, um... we gotta go."

"Don't be rude, Lincoln," scolded Leni.

"I'm not trying to be, but... um..."

_Think, Lincoln. Spin it so that you're doing her a favor._

"...don't you still want that romper?"

Leni gasped. "You're right!" she cried. "I completely forgot about that!"

She turned back to face her BFF. "Erin, it was great seeing you, but I've really gotta leave. I saw a romper at Penelope's Pitstop that I just  _need_ to get."

"Then go for it, girl," said Erin. "One last hug before we part ways?"

"Of course."

The two girls leaned in and gave each other a quick little squeeze, patting each other on the back.

"...and one for Lincoln..."

Before Lincoln could react, Erin grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug, inadvertently burying the shorter boy's face in her cleavage and leaving his face beet red.

"Buh-bye!" sang Erin, giving the Louds one last wave before skipping away.

Once Lincoln's embarrasment wore off and he started walking to the other end of the mall, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. All he had to do was evade those three jocks for the next three to four hours, and he'd be home free. Granted, three to four hours was a long time, but the mall was a pretty big place. What were the odds that he would even see them again?


	3. Prelude to a Shopping Spree

The romper was still in the window when the two Louds arrived at the store, and they were able to buy it without too much trouble. Penelope's Pitstop was a fairly popular store, but as one of the store clerks explained, their rompers weren't exactly flying off the shelves. After seeing Leni try it on, Lincoln could certainly see why; while she  _did_ look rather cute in it, Lincoln couldn't ignore how unwieldy and impractical the garment looked.

 _How are you even supposed to pee in this thing?,_ he thought as the cashier handed him the bag.  _Eh, whatever. Her problem, not mine._

"So what's next?" asked Lincoln as they walked out of the store.

"Hmm..." Leni pulled her itinerary back out of her purse and read through it again. "Ah, Dawn of the Thread! That's our next stop."

 _Another clothing store_ , thought Lincoln.  _I guess I shouldn't be surprised._

This store was on the second floor, so the two of them had to take the escalator up. Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, Lincoln always found something oddly enjoyable about riding the escalator. It may have just been the comfort of letting a machine carry him after hours of walking around. Alternately, it may have been the sensation of watching the floor beneath him get further and further away, each second serving as a reminder of just how large and vibrant the mall really was. Most likely, he just appreciated having fifteen seconds to daydream before he had to refocus his mind on the task at hand.

Lincoln could already spot the store by the time he and Leni got to the top of the escalator. It was pretty hard to miss the loud, garish banner that read "DAWN of the THREAD" in bold, green letters, each of which was wrapped in barbed wire and covered with claw marks. And if that didn't get his attention, the store radio inside blasting "Ghosts n' Stuff" by deadmau5 certainly would have.

"Are you sure this is the store we're looking for?" asked Lincoln.

"Yep!" said Leni.

Once they did get inside, the first thing he noticed was the smell. While Shoe to Thrill and Penelope's Pitstop had light, delicate aromas that he barely noticed at all, the air in Dawn of the Thread was a pungent mix of sweat, body spray, and various other scents that Lincoln didn't even recognize. The powerful smell was matched by an equally powerful sound, courtesy of the aforementioned store radio playing EDM with the bass turned up. It felt less like a clothing store and more like a well-lit dance club that happened to sell clothes.

As Lincoln browsed his eyes across the room, he had to wonder what Leni was planning on buying here. Among the items on display were studded belts, spray-tan bottles, technicolor hair dyes, and hoodies printed with slogans that would get him grounded for a week if he ever tried to say them out loud around his parents.

"'Ey, yo, it's Leni!" called a brash, Brooklyn- accented voice from the far left side of the store. Lincoln turned his head to see two muscular, tanned men in opened-up Hawaiian shirts behind the counter, smiling in their direction.

Leni gave them an enthusiastic wave. "Hi, Billy! Hi, Jimmy!"

With Lincoln following behind, she skipped up to the counter and gave both of the men high-fives.

"So what can we do you for, Leni?" asked the man on the right- presumably Jimmy, if the "J" tattooed on his washboard stomach was any indication. "We just got a new shipment of that mint conditioner, if you need a refill."

"Thanks," said Leni, "but we're just gonna browse."

"We?" asked Billy. It was then that he noticed Lincoln standing beside her, carrying a couple of shopping bags.

"Oh, hey, is this the little bro we've heard about?" he asked.

"Uh-huh!" said Leni. "He's my shopping buddy."

Jimmy crossed his arms and gave her a playful scolding look. "And you're having him carry all your bags," he said with a shake of his head. "For shame, Leni."

A sheepish smile broke out across Leni's face. "Um... sorry?"

Lincoln's eyes drifted down towards the large, albeit not particularly heavy, bags in his hand. Honestly, it hadn't bothered him until Jimmy pointed it out, but now that he thought about it, why  _was_ he carrying everything? Leni was bigger than him, and he was pretty sure she was stronger, too.

"Nah, it's aight, it's aight," said Billy. "Jimmy's just messin' with you. And hey, if you keep makin' him do this, little man's gonna get  _jacked_!"

He capped off his statement by performing a bicep flex that stretched the sleeve of his overtaxed shirt. This prompted a nervous shudder from Lincoln; he liked the idea of getting ripped, but not  _that_ ripped.

"Anyway, go ahead and take a look around. And just holla if you need anything."

Leni took Lincoln by the hand and walked him to an aisle in the center of the store, which he noticed was marked by a banner that read "BOYS' APPAREL" hanging overhead.

"Um, Leni? You do know that this is the boy's section, right?" he asked.

"Well,  _duh_. But I'm not shopping here for  _me_ , silly. I'm shopping here for you!"

Lincoln raised an eyebrow at her. "For me? But I don't need any new clothes."

"You kind of do, Linky," said Leni. "That basic orange shirt-jeans ensemble is getting pretty old. It's time to update your look!"

Lincoln had to suppress his instinct to groan. As far as he was concerned, his wardrobe was just fine the way it was. On top of that, nothing he had seen at this store thus far tickled his fancy in the slightest. But, once again, he was in no position to argue, so he held his tongue.

"How about a hoodie?" asked Leni. She pointed to a blood red hoodie hanging on the wall, with "TAP-OUT" emblazoned across the front.

"Nah," said Lincoln. Even disregarding the fact that red just wasn't his color, he'd never be caught dead wearing a Tapout shirt. Those seemed to be worn exclusively by tough guys and wannabe tough guys, and Lincoln was neither.

"Um, okay," said Leni, her smile dimming just a tad. "A skullcap, maybe?" she asked, pointing towards a rack of black and grey knitted skullcaps.

Lincoln shook his head. He wasn't a big fan of hats, in general. He'd always seen his milky white hair as one of his distinguishing traits, as well as something that made him unique, so he didn't like to cover it up.

"Hmm..." Leni's smile diminished again, to the point where it could hardly be called a smile anymore. "Let's try something smaller. How do you feel about wristbands?"

She pointed down towards a basket of black rubber wristbands with varying designs: some with skulls, some with band logos, and some with nihilistic slogans. None of them were particularly enticing to Lincoln.

"Not a fan," he said.

Finally, her smile disappeared altogether. "Come  _on_ , Lincoln," she pleaded, letting a little bit of hurt creep into her voice. "I'm doing this for you. Work with me here a little. Please?"

Lincoln's let his eyes droop towards the floor, sparing himself the guilt-inducing sight of Leni's frown. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just... I'm no good when it comes to fashion. What if I pick out something tacky, or stupid?"

A new smile began to tug at the end of Leni's lips, which Lincoln noticed out of the corner of his eye. "Are you really concerned about looking stupid in front of  _me_?" she asked.

Lincoln chuckled. It  _did_ sound kind of silly, when she put it like that.

"Just pick the first thing that jumps out at you," said Leni, laying her hand on Lincoln's shoulder. "I promise I won't scold you or laugh."

Lincoln nodded and began to scan his eyes across every shelf. But even though he was actively searching this time, he was still hard pressed to find a single piece of clothing that he could honestly say that he wanted. Pre-torn jeans, dog tags, graphic tees with pictures of cartoon characters dressed like hood rats... none of it was  _him_. Besides, he was pretty sure that most of what he saw was against his school's dress code.

But with some honest effort and perseverance, he eventually found something... decent. Not perfect, not spectacular, but respectable enough that he felt inclined to give it a chance. It was a smooth, jet-black (faux) leather jacket with a big, wide collar that was just begging to be popped, plus a couple of side pockets so he'd always have a place to put his hands.

"How about that?" asked Lincoln, pointing at the jacket.

Leni clasped her hand over her mouth, muffling a giggle. "That?"

"You promised you wouldn't laugh!" cried Lincoln.

"I know, I'm sorry. You just caught me off guard. I didn't expect you to go for the leather."

She pinched the shoulders of the jacket and gingerly lifted it off the hanger. "But honestly, it doesn't look half bad. Try it on!"

Lincoln was a little skeptical of Leni's claim, but he figured it couldn't hurt to try. He took the jacket from her, slipped his arms through the sleeves and zipped it up halfway. As soon as he was done, he saw Leni's face light up like a Christmas tree.

"So, um... do I look good?" asked Lincoln.

"Try  _great_!" said Leni. "You look like a little greaser!"

She dug into her purse, pulled out her makeup mirror and shoved it into Lincoln's hand. "Take a look for yourself!"

He popped open the mirror, held it about a foot away from his face, and was treated with the sight of a swingin' cat looking back at him. That big, black collar around his neck imbued him with an aura of old school coolness and rugged charm. He started daydreaming about driving down the highway in a fancy convertible with the top down (over the speed limit, because cool kids don't play by the rules), letting his powdery locks flutter in the wind, all while Ronnie Anne rested her head on his chest and gushed incessantly about how dreamy he was.

"I take it you want the jacket?" asked Leni.

"You're damn right I do," Lincoln said with a confident smirk.

"Then let's get you over to the counter, Danny Zuko."

She threw an arm around Lincoln's shoulder and the two of them walked him to the front of the store, beaming with pride all the way. Lincoln's pride swelled even more when they got to the counter, and the two clerks started whooping it up.

"Daaaaaaaamn!" exclaimed Billy. "Yo, is this kid for real?!"

"Bro, you are straight up  _rockin'_ that leather," Jimmy chimed in. "You look like the Fonz!"

"Or James Dean!"

"Or Jesse Katsopolis!"

"Nah, nah, not Jesse. He'd need the mullet for that."

"Oh, right."

...

"James Dean, though."

" _Definitely_ James Dean."

Lincoln only had a vague idea of who James Dean was, but he took the comparison as a compliment anyway. He took off the jacket and slapped it on the counter, letting Billy and Jimmy scan it and bag it up. Leni, once again, paid for it with her credit card.

"You made the right choice bringin' him here, Leni," said Jimmy. "Your little bro's gonna be the coolest kid in school."

"Oh, I'm sure he will," Leni said, grinning as she took the shopping bag. "Thank you both, and have a good day!"

As they left the store, Lincoln felt that same tingling sensation he experienced after leaving Shoe to Thrill. But this time, it was even stronger. Lincoln could feel his heart quiver inside his chest, almost as if it was straining to contain the joy welling up inside it. He was genuinely happy to be alive.

"See? Fashion  _can_ be fun!" cheered Leni.

Her remark sent a jolt of surprise running up and down his spine. On any other day, Lincoln would have dismissed that assertion as laughably untrue. But after that shopping session at Dawn of the Thread... she was  _right_. It  _was_ fun. Empowering, even. The simple act of making a new fashion choice left him feeling confident, attractive and proud.

 _But boys aren't supposed to like fashion, are we?_ , he thought.  _Then again, who gets to decide that, anyway? If it makes me happy and it's not hurting anyone, then what's the-_

"By the way, are you getting hungry?" Leni asked.

_Aaaaand I lost my train of thought._

"The food court's right on this floor, if you want to break for lunch," she said. "It's only, like, 11:30. We've got time."

Now that she mentioned it, Lincoln  _was_ starting to feel kind of peckish, and his legs were getting a little sore anyway. "Sure, let's eat!"

With that, Leni took him by the hand and started leading him to the other side of the floor. As they passed by the balcony, Lincoln caught a glimpse of those three football jocks walking around the first floor below.

_11:30. Just three more hours and I'm in the clear._


	4. Lunch Break

"So where do you want to eat?" asked Lincoln. Unless she said otherwise, he was automatically deferring to her. This was her day, after all.

"I don't really care," Leni said with a shrug. "You can pick the place if you want."

_Sweet!,_ he thought.  _Now let's see what I've got to choose from..._

Lincoln scanned his eyes across the vendors surrounding the food court, looking for the first sign to truly whet his appetite. Then he found it; a bright red banner that read "WOK THIS WAY" in sharp, daggerlike letters, accompanied by a stenciled picture of a wok.

"That one!" he cried, thrusting his pointer finger towards the banner. There were plenty of different regional cuisines that Lincoln enjoyed, but he'd always have a special place in his heart for Chinese food. It was all so hearty and flavorful: the chow fun, the lo mein, the moo goo gai pan... heck, it was almost as fun to  _say_ as it was to eat.

"Wok This Way?" asked Leni.

Lincoln gave her an enthusiastic nod.

"Well, okay then!"

The two of them strolled up to the vendor, and were greeted by a portly, round-faced Chinese man in a heavily stained apron.

"Hey, Li Wei!" greeted Leni as she approached the counter.

"Ah, hello, Leni!" he said, in a smoky rasp of a voice. "On another shopping spree, I presume?"

"Yuh-huh!" replied Leni.

Li Wei peered over the counter, smiling down at Lincoln. "And I see you're dragging your little brother along for the ride!"

Leni gave him a puzzled look. "No, I'm not," she said. "I'm not dragging him anywhere. He can walk on his own."

In response, Li Wei reared back his head and let out a heavy laugh that sent a ripple up and down his bulbous belly. "Ah, Leni, you're a funny one!"

She awkwardly laughed along with him, wondering what he found so funny about what she said.

"Anyway," he said after catching his breath, "what would you like to order?"

"One plate of pork fried rice, please," said Leni.

"Make that two, please!" added Lincoln.

"Coming right up!"

Li Wei looked back over his shoulder and called out the order to his chef, who was standing expectantly over a wok with a spatula in his hand. "Liǎng fèn zhūròu chǎofàn!"

Afterwards, Li Wei turned his attention back towards Leni and they chatted for a bit. Not that Lincoln was paying attention; he was too mesmerized by the sight of the chef going to town, piling ingredients into the wok and vigorously whisking them around while a thick plume of smoke rose from the center. It was like watching a blacksmith forge a sword.

After a few minutes, the chef emerged from the kitchen with two steaming, succulent plates of pork fried rice. Lincoln was already salivating as soon as he saw the chef lay the plates down in front of him- and that was before he could smell them. Leni paid for them both (this time in cash, including a hearty tip), and she and Lincoln went off to the seating area, eager to chow down.

"Enjoy your meal!" Li Wei called after them, prompting a smile and a wave from Leni.

The two of them took their seats at a table, grabbed a few napkins, and dug in. If there was one thing that Lincoln genuinely loved about the few times he went to the mall, it was the food. While it wasn't exactly gourmet, the cooks there always seemed to use just the right blend of spices and seasonings to drive Lincoln wild. The aroma of the fried rice was so intoxicating that he started shoveling it into his mouth as soon as he sat down.

But he only got three or four bites in before Leni started bugging him with a question- and, unfortunately, this one was a bit of a stumper.

"Hey, Lincoln? I've got a quick question. Do you know what a 'yurakt' is?"

Lincoln took a moment to chew, swallow and wipe a few stray grains of rice off his lips before responding. "A  _what_?"

"A 'yurakt'. I don't know what it is either."

Leni took a pink post-it out of her pocket. "Like, someone left this note on my locker, and I have no idea what it means. All it says is 'yurakt.'" As she spoke, her eyes scanned the note over and over, trying to make sense of it.

Lincoln's eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Let me see that note."

Leni shrugged and handed it over. Lincoln flipped it around, to find the following string of letters written on it in sharpie:

_U_R_A_Q_T_

"Yeah, that  _is_ kind of- wait a second…"

Lincoln noticed that the letters were all in uppercase, and spaced conspicuously far apart. He tried sounding out each letter in his head.

"U…R…A…Q…T? *gasp* You are a cutie!"

"Well, thank you, Lincoln, that's flattering," Leni said with a giggle.

"No, that's what the note says!"

He flipped the note around and showed it to Leni. As he read the note aloud, he pointed to each letter in rapid succession.

"See? You-are-a-cu-tie!"

Leni gasped. "So that means that somebody at my school thinks I'm…"

A luminescent blush started to creep across her cheeks, which she clumsily tried to hide with her napkin.

"…a cutie?"

"Seems like it," Lincoln said, giving Leni a smirk. "You've got a secret admirer, Leni."

"EEEEEE!" Leni squealed. With a humongous grin plastered over her face, she started rocking back in her seat and kicking her feet in the air. "Somebody has a crush on meeeeeeee!"

Lincoln couldn't help but chuckle at Leni's ridiculous display. "E-easy, Leni. It's not  _that_ big of a deal."

"It totally  _is,_ Lincoln!" she cried. "It's not every day that I get a note like this!"

"Wait, really?" Lincoln asked, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you'd be used to this kind of thing by now."

Leni's smile started to fade, as Lincoln's comment snapped her out of her swooning fit. "Hmm? What do you mean?"

"I just always assumed you were super popular with boys."

"What gave you that idea?" Leni asked, tilting her head.

"Well, what's not to like? You're friendly, you're sweet, you're  _really_ pretty-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," she said, her blush resurging. "But the truth is, I've never been that great with guys. Not like Lori."

She breathed out a wistful sigh. "See, Lori,  _she_ always knows the right thing to say to a guy. But I just don't. Like, this one time, this boy came up to me and said that he really liked my top, so I said that I really liked his bottom. He just looked at me all bug-eyed and left."

Lincoln had to stifle a snicker- which, unfortunately, Leni took notice of.

"What?! I was just trying to say that he looked good in jeans!"

"I know, I know," Lincoln said as he let another snicker escape. "But I think when people talk about pants, they usually say bottom _s_. Plural."

"...ohhhhh. Got it."

A lull in the discussion ensued as the two of them went back to their meal. Lincoln wasn't quite sure how to continue the conversation, and he was far too hungry to try to think of a way. Alas, by the time he had finished half his plate, Leni threw another question at him- this one equally difficult, albeit for different reasons.

"By the way, speaking of dating..."

She shifted forward, gazing at Lincoln as a dreamy smile formed on her face. "...how are you and Ronnie Anne?"

Lincoln started squirming in his seat. "We're, um... a thing, I guess?"

Leni's smile dissolved, leaving a befuddled frown in its wake.

"I mean, I just don't know if we're, you know,  _really_ together," he clarified. "Like, boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Well, you go on lots of dates, don't you?" asked Leni.

"Yeah..."

"And you don't go out with any other girls, do you?"

"Oh, God, no. Ronnie'd be furious if I did that."

"And she doesn't go out with other boys, does she?"

"Not that I know of."

"Sounds like a relationship to me," Leni said with a shrug.

Lincoln shoveled another bite of fried rice into his mouth, and chewed it slowly to give himself time to think of a response.

"But Leni," he said after swallowing, "in a relationship, don't the two people have to, you know, love each other? Or at least really like each other?"

Leni's forehead wrinkled with concern. "You don't think Ronnie Anne likes you?"

"It's not that she doesn't  _like_ me. She wouldn't want to hang out with me if she didn't like me. It's just, sometimes I wonder if she... respects me?"

"What makes you think she doesn't?" she asked. "She doesn't hit you anymore, does she?"

"Oh, no, not anymore," Lincoln said with a shake of his head. "I told her to stop a couple months ago."

"And she hasn't hit you since?"

"Not once."

"See? She wouldn't have listened to you if she didn't respect you."

Lincoln slouched deeper into his chair. "I guess," he muttered. "But she still teases me and calls me names. Just last week, we were playing dodgeball in gym class, and she said that I threw like a hobbit."

Leni pushed her (still half-full) plate aside and leaned over the table, looking Lincoln straight in the eye. "Well, let me ask you this. When she said that, did you think she was trying to make you feel bad?"

"Well, uh...that is... I mean, I..."

Lincoln averted his eyes as he stumbled over his words. Leni continued to hold her gaze on him until he could come up with an answer.

"...no, probably not," he admitted. "Most likely, she just wanted my attention."

"There you go!" she said, beginning to break out into a smile. "Not all girls show their love the same way."

Lincoln turned back to Leni and reassumed eye contact with her. "But, see, the problem is that it still hurts my feelings," he explained, causing Leni to lose her smile. "At least, sometimes."

"Then I think you should tell her that," Leni said firmly.

"But what if she doesn't take me seriously?"

Leni shook her head. "She will, Lincoln. I know she will."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"I'll tell you how," she replied, maintaining her firm-yet-gentle tone. "Do you remember that time at school, when you called her annoying and gross and you made her cry?"

"I'm sorry!" he blurted out. His sudden spike in volume caused Leni to recoil in surprise.

"I-it's okay, it's okay," she said hastily. "I'm only bringing it up to make a point. The truth is, you and Ronnie Anne aren't all that different. She may not show it, like, all the time, but she's sensitive, too. She knows that words can be hurtful."

Leni took a few more bites of her meal before continuing. "You know, I think I'm starting to see the problem. I could be wrong- and you can tell me if I am- but it sounds to me like you're still a little afraid of her."

Lincoln looked away from Leni and slumped into his chair, making himself as small as possible. The only response he could manage was a timid little nod.

"No, don't be ashamed!" she said. "Like, I get it, you know? She was your bully for a long time before you started dating. It's hard to move on from that.

"But Lincoln, those days are... Lincoln, look at me."

Lincoln looked up to see Leni leaning across the table, hands clasped in front of her, with a tender- almost motherly- look in her eyes. "Lincoln, those days are behind you. She's not your bully anymore. She's your  _friend_. She likes you, and she wants you to like her back."

Lincoln had to resist the urge to tear up as he looked into Leni's eyes. At no point during this excursion did he expect to hear something so...  _touching_. Over a plate of pork fried rice, no less.

"But that means you have to stop being scared of her," Leni continued. "You have to find the courage to be honest and open with her, and trust that she'll respect you when you do. Understand?"

Lincoln's brow furrowed with determination, and his lips curled up into a brave smile. "Yes," he declared. "Yes, I do."

"Great!" chirped Leni, returning the smile. "I have a really good feeling about you two. You're gonna be together for, like,  _ever_."

With that, Leni scarfed down the rest of her rice, and the two of them left the table to recycle their plates. As they were walking back to the table, Lincoln caught a glimpse of his bagged up leather jacket on Leni's seat- and inspiration struck.

"Hey, Leni? Can you hand me my leather jacket, please?"

Leni reached over, grabbed the bag and handed it off to Lincoln. "Sure, what for?"

An insuppressible grin broke out on Lincoln's face as he unbagged the jacket and slipped it on. "I want to take a jacket selfie and text it to Ronnie Anne. See what she thinks."

Leni gasped with delight. "Ohmygosh,  _yes_!" she cried. "Go for it, Linky. She's gonna  _flip_."


	5. Nailed It

 "Okay, now put your hands in your pockets. Yeah, like that. And move your chin up  _juuust_ a little bit. She really needs to see your face."

 

 

At this point, Lincoln was starting to regret the selfie idea. His intent was to take a quick little photo with his smartphone, but Leni, being Leni, insisted on making it perfect. She spent five minutes coaching Lincoln into the proper position, as if she were taking photos for a modeling agency. Even so, Lincoln just grit his teeth and followed along, since he knew that Leni was only doing it because she cared.

"All right... perfect!" *cli-CLICK*

At long last, the selfie was taken. Once she saw the end result on Lincoln's camera roll, she started squealing like a schoolgirl.

"Lincoln, she's gonna  _love_ this!" she cried.

Lincoln gave her a skeptical look; was a selfie  _really_ worth getting that excited over?

Then he took the phone from Leni and gave the selfie a look over...

...and came to the conclusion that it  _was_ , as a matter of fact, worth getting excited over. With his collar popped, his hands in his pockets, his eyebrow arched and his lips curled into a sneering grin, he looked like a paragon of effortless coolness. With his fingers trembling with excitement, he texted the selfie to Ronnie Anne, and dropped the phone into the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Oh, you're gonna keep that on?" asked Leni.

"Yeah," Lincoln said with a shrug and a smile. "I mean, why not? One less thing to carry."

"Can't argue with that!" piped Leni. "You look  _really_ good in that, by the way. I know I've already said that, but you do."

She joined hands with Lincoln again and began to lead him back to the other side of the floor, where the escalator was. As they were walking, she pulled her itinerary back out of her purse and looked through it.

"Next, we're gonna head over to the Beauty Bar," she said. "I need to get my nails done."

Lincoln just grunted and nodded. He assumed that this was something she was going to do on her own, and that he'd just have to wait outside, which he honestly didn't mind. As they were approaching the escalator, however, Leni had this to add:

"By the way, you're welcome to join me, if you'd like."

_She's not really suggesting that I get my nails done, is she?,_ thought Lincoln. He figured that she was just trying to be polite, so he decided to respond in kind.

"Thanks, Leni, but I think I'm just going to hang around outside until you're done."

"You sure?" she asked. She snuck a peek at Lincoln's hands, which were hanging lazily by his sides. "Your nails look like they could use some work."

_Wait... is she serious?_

Lincoln raised his left hand to his face and took a look at his nails. True, they were a little dirty... and jagged... and dry... so no, Leni wasn't wrong when she said that they could use some improvement. But even so, what boy his age- or  _any_ age- would be caught dead getting his nails done with his big sister at a beauty salon?

"Gee, Leni, I dunno," he said, scratching the back of his neck. "I mean, isn't that for girls?"

Leni shook her head. "Grooming is for  _everyone_ , Lincoln. Like, you don't have to be a girl to care about looking good and feeling clean."

"I guess..." mumbled Lincoln, his voice trailing off as he tried to think of a rebuttal.

"Tell you what," she said. "You can watch me get  _my_ nails done, and then you can decide whether or not you'll want yours done. Sound good?"

Lincoln rubbed his chin as he considered the offer. All he had to do was watch Leni for fifteen or so minutes, and he still had the option to say no when it was all said and done. What was the worst that could happen?

"Deal," he said with a sharp nod of his head.

With that, the two of them stepped onto the escalator and rode it back to the first floor. Right at the foot of the escalator, Lincoln saw a hot pink sign that read "Beauty Bar" in fancy cursive font, along with a silhouette of a woman in profile.

_If grooming is for everyone, then why is their logo a woman?,_ thought Lincoln as they approached the doors.  _W_ _hatever. Don't argue._

Upon entering, Lincoln had to squint his eyes, struggling to adjust to the store's overpowering lighting. As soon as he opened the doors, he felt a torrent of fluorescent light beaming itself into his skull. If that wasn't overwhelming enough, the air was filled with the combined scent of several different expensive perfumes and colognes, undoubtedly worn by the store's patrons. The music, which wasn't particularly loud to begin with, was barely audible over the cacophony of dozens of customers and beauticians gabbing in unison.

Once his senses got adjusted to the new environment, he and Leni walked to the front desk. There, they were "greeted" (in the loosest sense of the word) by a blonde lady at the front desk with a twig-like figure and a face bathed in pints of foundation and eyeshadow. Even as Leni approached her and called her by name, she refused to stop filing her nails or even look up.

"Hi, Phyllis!" she called.

"Hello, Leni," said Phyllis. "Here for another manicure?"

"Yep!" said Leni, giving Phyllis a smile that she knew wasn't going to be returned.

"Unfortunately, we're a little booked right now," said Phyllis. "Jolene's available, though."

"Can't say I've heard of her. Is she new?"

"Yeah, we hired her about a month ago. Just finished beautician school last December. She's still a little green, but she's all we've got right now. That okay?"

"Sure!" chirped Leni. "I'd love to meet her!"

"All right, then. Hold on and let me call her over." Phyllis put down her nail file and pushed herself up from her chair with a grunt, making the action look far more laborious than it merited.

"JOLENE!" she bellowed. "YOU'VE GOT A CUSTOMER!"

A few moments later, Lincoln saw a fresh new employee skip up to the counter- and his heart nearly stopped. She was a vibrant, energetic young woman, with long raven hair that swished back and forth with every step she took, eyes of sapphire that shone brightly even in the midst of the garishly overlit salon, and to top it all off, a warm, sunkissed complexion.

"Ba...ba...ba...ba...ba..." babbled Lincoln.

_Snap out of it, Linc. You can't be doing this. Not now. Not after that long talk about trusting and respecting your girlfriend. Don't swoon. Don't gawk._

But every time he looked at her, he found another detail that gave him butterflies in his stomach. A pair of dimples, a pillowy set of lips, a cute little button nose...

_You know what? I'm just gonna close my eyes. That'll work._ _If Leni asks, I'll just say I'm taking a standing-up nap._ _Can't lust after someone I can't see, can I-_

"Well, hello there, sweetie pie!" Jolene said to Leni, her voice imbued with a honey-drenched Southern twang. "Why don'cha mosey on over here and we'll take a look at them nails."

_Oh, good lord, even her accent is cute. The universe thinks of everything, doesn't it?_

"Come on, Linky!" Leni called as Jolene lead her to a table near the back of the room. Lincoln sighed and shuffled after the two of them, deliberately keeping his head down the whole way. By the time he reached the back of the room, Jolene was already getting started on Leni's nails.

"So what's your name, sugar bun?" Jolene asked, as she dipped a cloth in polish remover and started rubbing Leni's nails clean.

"Leni!" she said, with her usual bubbly enthusiasm.

While she continued to de-polish Leni's nails, Jolene's eyes wandered over toward Lincoln.

"And how about you?" she asked. "You got a name, too?"

"Um, y-y-yeah," stammered Lincoln. "I... I do."

"Well, then, what is it?" Jolene asked with a giggle. "Don't leave me hangin'!"

"Oh! O-of course." At this point, beads of sweat started to accumulate on Lincoln's brow. "My name is...um... sugar bun. I-I mean Lincoln!"

Jolene laughed again, in a delicate, lilting voice that sent shivers down Lincoln's spine. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you both, Leni n' Lincoln."

Jolene went on to have an amiable chat with Leni while she performed the manicure. Throughout the process, Lincoln made a point of staring directly at Leni's nails. From one step to the next, he never took his eyes off of them.

_Just look at the nails. Leni told you to watch her get a manicure, right? So that's what you're gonna do. Just look at the nails. Don't look at the angel next to her. No, not an angel. Just a woman. An ordinary human woman. A beautiful, honey-voiced, immaculate human woman. A... dang it, Lincoln, keep it together! You can do this! You're a Loud! And Louds never give in to-_

"Almost done, Leni!"

The next thing he knew, he was watching Jolene apply a fresh layer of ruby polish to Leni's nails. Lincoln got so caught up in his thoughts that the last twenty minutes just slipped by without him even noticing.

"Aaaaand finished!" said Jolene. "How do they look?"

Leni looked down at her freshly groomed nails, grinning all the while. "Like,  _awesome_. Thank you so much!"

"Any time, sugar!"

Leni hopped off the chair and proudly presented her nails to Lincoln. "So what did you think?" she asked. "Do you want a manicure too?"

"Um... uh..."

"Well, how 'bout it?" asked Jolene, beaming down at Lincoln. "You want a lil' manicure?"

_Say no, Lincoln. Say no. There's no way you'll be able to get through that without drooling all over the table._ _Tell her your nails are fine the way they are._ _Tell her you're allergic to nail polish. Tell her you're trying to set the Guinness World Record for the most unkempt nails. Tell her anything. Just say no._

"Um, s-s-sure," croaked Lincoln. "That... that sounds great."

_What the heck, tongue?!_

"Well, all right then! Take a seat right there and we can get started."

Trembling, Lincoln climbed up onto the chair and sat himself down.

"I'll be waiting for you over by the front desk," said Leni. "Have fun, you two!"

She swiveled around, gave Lincoln a wave and skipped back to the front of the salon.

_All right, I guess we're doing this,_ thought Lincoln. He tentatively lay both of his hands on the table, where Jolene could see them.

"Looks like you're long overdue, sugar," remarked Jolene, as she picked up his left hand and started looking it over. "But don't you worry. I'll fix it up real good."

Lincoln's heart doubled its pace as soon as Jolene's hands touched his, but he forced himself to keep still. After all, the more he trembled, the harder it would be for her to do her job- and the harder it was for her, the longer it would take.

Since she didn't have any nail polish to remove, Jolene skipped right to the second step. She picked up her nail file and started rubbing it across Lincoln's nails, smoothing out all the edges. To his relief, she kept her eyes on his nails the whole time, so he wouldn't have to make eye contact with her. This didn't mean that he wouldn't have to talk to her, however.

"Where do you go to school, Lincoln?" asked Jolene.

"R...Royal Wood...Royal Woods Middle School," uttered Lincoln.

"Oh, hey, I have a lil' cousin who goes there! Do you know Sheldon Parson?"

_Sheldon?_ Lincoln knew just about everyone in his grade, but he couldn't recall ever meeting a boy named "Sheldon."

"I-I don't think so," he said.

"Lil' chubby kid? Brown hair? Always ridin' his bike to school?"

"Oh! You mean Papa Wheelie."

Jolene chuckled. "Is  _that_ what he's callin' himself?" she asked. "That boy  _does_ love his bike."

A lump started to form in Lincoln's throat as he realized the implications of what he just learned.  _She's Papa Wheelie's cousin? What if she starts showing up at school?...No, that would never happen. Unless it's, like, Bring Your Cousin to School Day. Wait, no, that's not a thing. But what if it becomes a thing? Oh, geez..._

At that point, Jolene had finished filing his nails, leaving them sleek and smooth to the touch. Lincoln had to admit that he was feeling cleaner already.

"All right, now for the cuticles," said Jolene. She picked up a bottle of gel cubicle remover, squeezed a bit of it onto a brush, and started dabbing it around Lincoln's fingers. The harsh chemicals in the gel stung Lincoln's skin, causing him to wince.

"Relax, hon," she cooed. "This'll just take a moment."

Lincoln gulped. That voice of hers was almost inhumanly soothing, like one of those ASMR ladies he saw on YouTube sometimes.

"So what do you wanna be when you grow up?" she asked, as she continued to apply the gel.

Lincoln struggled to think of a response, and this time it wasn't just because he was flustered. Now that he thought about it, he wasn't quite sure if he  _had_  a special talent or passion. Most of his sisters did- fashion, music, comedy, sports, poetry, home repair, modeling, science- but what was his?

"I- I don't know," he choked out.

"Well, that's all right, sweetie pie. You've got plenty o' time to think about it."

After applying the remover and letting it sit for a minute, she put the bottle away, and retrieved a copper bowl of clear water in its place. "All right, Lincoln, now I'm just gonna need you to put your hands into that there bowl. Gotta wash off that gel."

Lincoln thanked his lucky stars that she wasn't going to try to wash it off herself. As he dipped his fingertips into the lukewarm water, the stinging sensation in his fingers was washed away. Upon looking closer, he was intrigued by the sight of the gel dissolving into the water, giving it a faint greenish tint. It was like he was being healed by a magical elixir, purging the pain from his skin. The whole process was so relaxing that he felt a twinge of disappointment when Jolene took the bowl away.

"We're almost done," Jolene said, as she dabbed his fingers dry with a mini-towel. "After this, I just gotta moisturize your skin and we'll be all set to go."

_Moisturize?_ , he thought.  _She doesn't mean... oh, no..._

Jolene took out a bottle of skin lotion, squirted a bit into her hand, and started massaging it into Lincoln's fingers. Lincoln had to fight the urge to keel over and faint. His thought process devolved into an endless repeating mantra:  _She's holding my hand. She's holding my hand. She's holding my hand. She's holding my hand. She's holding my hand. She's holding my hand. She's holding my-_

"All done!" sang Jolene, snapping Lincoln out of his trance. "Now  _those_ are some nails you can be proud of. Take a look for yourself!"

Lincoln raised his hands up to his face and took a gander at his newly manicured nails. Clean, smooth, trimmed, with perfectly groomed cuticles and not a hangnail in sight. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction; while he didn't think his new nails would impress any of his friends (at least, not his male ones), he couldn't deny that they felt a lot healthier than they did before.

"T...thanks, Jolene."

"Aw, it wasn't nothin', sugar," she said, tousling Lincoln's hair. "You take care now, y'hear?"

Lincoln gave her an awkward, stilted wave and skittered back to the front desk, where Leni was waiting for him with a big smile on her face.

"So what'd you think?" she asked. "How was your first manicure?"

"Good!" said Lincoln, forcing a smile. "Real, real good. My nails look great."

"Glad to hear it!" said Leni. "I told you grooming is for everyone!"

"Y...yep. When you're right, you're right."

Leni had already paid for them while she was waiting, so they just grabbed their bags and left the store- after giving Jolene and Phyllis one last wave goodbye, that is.

"So did you like Jolene?" Leni asked, giving Lincoln a nudge with her elbow. "She's cute, isn't she?"

"N-no!" cried Lincoln. "I mean, was she? I... didn't notice. Maybe she was."

Leni just laughed and rolled her eyes. "Come on, Linky. I'm not blind, you know. I saw the way you acted around her."

_Busted._

Lincoln heaved out a defeated sigh and bowed his head in shame. "You got me," he whimpered. "I-I don't know what came over me."

As he spoke, he shrunk away from Leni, fully expecting a scolding, or at least a stern talking-to. Instead, she just draped an arm around his shoulder and pulled him in close. Lincoln tentatively looked back up at his big sister, and saw that she was still maintaining that bright, sunny disposition she was known for.

"You're not mad?" he asked timidly.

"Why would I be mad? It took a lot of strength to do what you did. You had a beautiful woman holding your hand for fifteen minutes, and you still tried your hardest to stay calm and control yourself."

She tightened her grip and pulled him in closer. Lincoln smiled and let out a contented hum as his face caressed the smooth, silky fabric of her dress.

"Ronnie Anne's lucky to have someone like you," she whispered.

Just then, Lincoln heard a faint buzzing sound coming from inside his jacket pocket. He reached in and pulled out his phone to find that Ronnie Anne had just texted him back. Quivering with excitement, he punched in his passcode and went straight to his texts. Right at the top of the screen, he saw, "Nice jacket, Lame-O" accompanied by a grinning emoji.

"Now, Lincoln, remember what we talked about," said Leni, who was looking over his shoulder. "If she's hurting your feelings, you should let her know."

Lincoln chuckled. "Thanks, Leni, but I don't really mind that name. Kinda has a nice ring to it, if you ask me."

He took another look at his phone, checking the time displayed in the corner.

12:50. Just a hundred minutes more.


	6. Pickin' Flicks

 The next two stops on the Louds' shopping spree were relatively mundane. After getting their nails done, they stopped inside a school supplies store so Leni could stock up on paper and pens (the latter of which she had a bad habit of losing). Leni had been putting it off for the better part of the trip, but since the supplies store was just a few meters away from the Beauty Bar, she really had no excuse to avoid it any longer. After that, a brief trip to the electronics store ensured that they were well-stocked on batteries, which the Loud family tended to burn through rather quickly.

"So what's next on the agenda?" asked Lincoln, as they left the electronics store.

"A few things," said Leni, looking through her schedule. "First, we've gotta head over to Movieland. Like, I've been thinking of planning a family movie night, and I wanna make sure we have a lot to choose from."

"A family movie night?"

"Yeah! Like, a night when we can all just gather 'round the TV and watch a movie! Wouldn't that be fun?"

Lincoln responded with a low, noncommittal grunt. A movie night sounded like a pretty good idea, but the shopping trip was starting to wear on him, and he couldn't quite muster up the energy to show the proper enthusiasm. Leni took his grunt as a sign of approval, and let it pass without comment.

After the two of them rode the escalator back up to the second floor, Leni began to speak again.

"So here's my thinking," said Leni. "We pick out eleven movies- one that each of our sisters would like, plus you and me. Then we put it to a vote, and no matter what we pick, at least one of us will be happy! What do you think?"

Lincoln narrowed his eyes at her. "Leni, I see several problems with that plan."

"Hmm? Like what?"

"Well, first of all, what if each sister just votes for the movie we picked for them? Then we'd have a tie."

Leni furrowed her brow and started scratching the back of her head. "I hadn't thought of that," she said.

"And more to the point, shouldn't the movie night be fun for  _everyone_? I don't want to leave half the family unhappy with what we pick."

Leni stopped in her tracks and let go of her bags, which hit the floor with an unceremonious thud. "You're right," she muttered, unfurrowing her brow and letting her eyes droop downward. "I-I don't know what I was thinking."

"No, Leni, it's okay!" said Lincoln. "I mean, a movie night isn't a bad idea per se. I just think it'll be cheaper and more fun if we just pick  _one_ movie that everyone will like."

"But won't that be hard?" asked Leni, as the two resumed their leisurely pace.

Lincoln opened his mouth for a response, but it dawned on him that Leni wasn't wrong. Even disregarding how large and diverse the family was, the movie would have to be something that was appropriate for the younger kids but still appealing to the older teens.

"I mean, it won't be easy," he admitted, deflating a little.

It was then that they started approaching the store, marked by a sign that read "MOVIELAND" in white block letters, designed to mimic those of the iconic Hollywood Sign. Leni peered through one of the store windows, and her face immediately lit up.

"Wait, I've got it!" she cried, pointing towards the store window. "We can just ask Frank!"

Beyond the window sat a doughy, balding man with a chin and neck covered in stubble sitting at the store counter, resting his head on one hand and using the other to drum the counter.

"Frank's the guy I always go to when I need a new movie recommendation," explained Leni. "He kind of smells funny and sometimes he talks too much, but he  _really_ knows his movies."

Lincoln shrugged. "Worth a shot, I guess."

And so, the two of them walked into Movieland- which, Lincoln noticed, was eerily quiet, compared to the stores they had visited so far. Only four or five other customers were seen in the aisles, and each of them were silently browsing alone. As such, the low hum of the store radio was the only thing contributing to the ambient noise. Lincoln would have found it refreshing if it wasn't so eerie.

_I guess not a lot of people buy movies anymore,_ he thought.

Furthermore, while the other store clerks greeted Leni as soon as she came in the door, Frank stayed oblivious to her arrival until she and Lincoln were practically right in front of him.

"Hey, Leni," Frank said with a labored wheeze. "Looking for a movie?"

"Mmm-hmm!" she said. "This one's gonna be a bit of a challenge, though."

"Try me," he replied, a slight hint of a smirk forming on his face.

"So, like, I've got a  _big_ family. Nine sisters, plus my little brother." She gestured towards Lincoln, who was standing right by her side. "I want a movie that all of us will like."

Lincoln nodded along. "Also, two of our sisters are six and one of them is four," he added. "So nothing R-rated."

Frank planted both of his hands on the counter, and with a good, hardy push, he hoisted himself up out of his chair. "All right, I'll see what I can do."

After adjusting his belt and hiking up his cargo shorts, he waddled around the counter to meet them. "I'll lead you over to the family section," he said. "In the meantime, tell me a little about your sisters, so I know what to look for."

Frank's walking pace was quite sluggish, to the point that Leni and Lincoln had to shuffle their feet forward to prevent themselves from leaving him behind. On the flipside, it meant that they had ample time to give him the rundown before they reached the right aisle.

"So first we've got Lucy," began Lincoln. "She likes dark, spooky stuff. Big fan of Edwin the Vampire."

Frank rolled his eyes and gave off a contemptuous snort. "Freakin' Edwin fans," he muttered under his breath. "But whatever. I ain't here to judge. Keep going."

Leni and Lincoln exchanged bemused glances before continuing. "Well, then there's Luan," said Leni. "She's, like, the joker of the family. Makes a lot of puns."

The two Louds continued to provide laconic descriptions of each sister's preferences, all while Frank nodded and hummed along; Lori liked romance, Lynn liked action, Lisa liked cerebral films that made her think, Lola liked cute stuff, Lana liked gross-out humor, Lily was a baby who would watch practically anything, and Luna would watch anything as long as the soundtrack was good. As for the two of them, Lincoln liked superheroes, and Leni was okay with anything that was easy to follow.

"So, lemme get this straight," said Frank. "You're looking for a movie with action, romance, comedy, nightmare fuel, nausea fuel, cute stuff, superheroes and a rockin' soundtrack? And it has to be both challenging and easy to follow?"

"Pretty much," said Lincoln. "That's... not too much to ask, is it?"

Frank let out a rough, throaty chuckle. "Not for me, it isn't," he said. A moment later, they reached the aisle on the far right end of the store, marked by a sign that read "FAMILY" in big red text.

"I think I know just the movie you're looking for," Frank said as he started searching the aisle. "I just don't remember if we still have it."

Lincoln and Leni tried to look for themselves, but found few films that looked anything more than mediocre. To greedy, cynical filmmakers, "family" was a codeword for, "something with a lot of bright colors you can use to distract your kid for an hour and a half." As such, Movieland's family aisle was stocked with uninspired schlock like  _The Littlest Elf_ ,  _Middle School Musical,_ _Astronaut Accountants from Outer Space, Mr. Poe & Yogul in Vegas, _ _Blarney the Dinosaur 4: Blarney in da Hood, Alan Smithee's Alice in Wonderland, Ninety Minutes of Infomercials,_  and  _Santa's Super Sleigh: The Movie,_ among others.

"Ah, here it is!" exclaimed Frank, snatching a Blu-Ray off the shelf. "I've seen this movie a dozen times, and I'm pretty sure it checks off every box."

He pivoted around and thrust the cover of the Blu-Ray in Leni and Lincoln's faces. On the cover was a cartoon man with a scraggly, unkempt goatee, draped in a wrinkled khaki overcoat covered with several unidentifiable stains, rubbing his prickly chin in deep contemplation. Behind him was the shadow of a large, Victorian-style mansion, partially illuminated by a bolt of lightning. Right above it, the cover read, "HERMIE PARKER" in German Gothic font.

"Hermie Parker?" asked Lincoln. "The detective from the  _Solve It Yourself_ books?"

"That's the one," said Frank. "You kids are too young to remember this, but back when I was your age, Hermie Parker was  _everywhere._ Books, TV shows, video games, podcasts, comics, and this little flick right here."

Leni peered closely at the cover, narrowing her eyes. "And you're sure it's what we're looking for?" she asked.

"Positive," said Frank. "How much do you know about Hermie?"

Both Lincoln and Leni shrugged. They knew he was a detective who solved mysteries, but very little besides that.

"Alright, then here's the lowdown. Every book he'd get roped into some creepy murder case, and he'd have to figure it out before his rival did. See, he has this rival investigator named Carmelia, and she's always following him around just so she can get the chance to show him up. There's a ton of romantic tension between the two."

Frank let out a wet, phlegmy cough before continuing. "The series was pretty lighthearted, though. Like, he had this cute little kitten named Archie, who would help him look for clues. And when he talked, he ALWAYS doubled down on the puns. You could make a drinking game out of all the puns he made in one chapter alone.

"So right off the bat, you've got the nightmare fuel, the romance, the cute stuff and the comedy. That's half your list."

"Not bad!" said Lincoln, his once-weary eyes widening with intrigue.  _Grisly murders? A lady rival? A kitten assistant? This is actually sounding pretty cool!_

"And keep in mind that I've just been talking about the series so far," said Frank. "I still have to talk about the movie."

He flipped the Blu-Ray case around and perused the blurb on the back, presumably to double-check some of his facts before he spoke. "Okay, so there's this scene when Hermie and Archie find the body, and Archie just upchucks all over it. And they don't cut away or anything, you  _see_ the vomit. So there's your nausea fuel."

Both Leni and Lincoln cringed at this, but they allowed him to continue.

"And I don't wanna give too much away, but there's this sick fight scene near the end between Hermie and the murderer. So there's your action. As for the soundtrack, they got Glocks n' Tulips to perform the opening credits theme, and you can't go wrong with them."

Frank lowered the Blu-Ray from his face and gave Lincoln a sheepish look. "No superheroes, though," he said. "Not technically, anyway. They  _did_ get Adam North to voice the owner of the mansion, though."

Lincoln just gave him a blank stare, eliciting an exasperated grunt from him.

"Adam North?" snapped Frank. "The guy who played Ace Savvy in the live action TV show from the 60's? Come on, man!"

"O-oh! Sorry, I'm bad with names. That's pretty cool, though."

Frank just shook his head and rolled his eyes before turning to Leni. "Now, you also said that it has to be challenging, but easy to follow. And honestly, that's the best thing about it. If you pay close attention and use your head, you can figure out who the murderer is before Hermie does. But even if you can't, you can still enjoy the movie for what it is. It's everything a mystery is supposed to be."

"Sounds like fun!" she said, breaking out into a smile. "What do you think, Lincoln?"

Lincoln gave her and Frank an enthusiastic nod. "Sounds  _great_! Let's go get it!"

Frank donned a smug smirk and started ambling back towards the front of the store. "What a surprise; Frank gets it right again," he muttered to himself.

Lincoln overheard Frank's remark and grimaced, realizing that the shopkeeper's attitude was starting to irk him. Even so, he decided to hold his tongue, since he wouldn't have to stay in the store much longer. After waiting for Frank to hobble back behind the counter, the two of them paid for the Blu-Ray, bagged it up, and bid him goodbye with a smile and a thank you.

"No problem!" Frank said, returning the smile. "Lemme know what you thought of it next time you come by here."

As they walked back out into the mall, the fatigue Lincoln was feeling on the way to Movieland came back. His steps became slower and more labored, and the straps on the bags he was carrying were starting to dig deep into his fingers. It took significant effort on his part to keep pace with Leni, who was just as perky and energetic as ever.

"Just two more stops, Linky," she said. "Then we'll be done for the day!"


	7. The Last Ten Yards

****At this point, Lincoln had no idea how much time they had left. Both his aching hands were weighed down by bags of merchandise, disabling him from checking either his phone or his watch. Even so, Leni told him that they only had two more stops to make, so he forced himself to soldier on.

"Next, we've gotta go to Falcon Athletics," said Leni, pointing towards the opposite end of the second floor. Off in the distance, Lincoln spied a store headed by a logo of a cawing falcon, wings spread, clutching a baseball bat in one talon and a hockey stick in the other.

"A sporting goods store?" he asked, giving Leni a peculiar look. "What for?"

"Well, yesterday I overheard Lynn complaining that her baseball glove was all worn out and stuff. So I'm buying her a new one."

"Without her asking?"

"Yep! It'll be a surprise. I can't wait to see the look on her face."

A small smirk began to tug at the end of Lincoln's lips. Leni might not have been the smartest of the Loud sisters, but she was definitely the sweetest.

As the two of them walked across the mall, Lincoln's mind began to wander, as he gave himself a moment to reflect back on the day. It occurred to him that he hadn't even thought about avoiding those football jocks since before lunchtime. Back when he first saw them outside Shoe to Thrill, he was under the impression that he would have to keep ducking them throughout the day. But in fact, he managed to stay out of their way without even having to try.

_What was I even worried about?_ , he thought.  _The odds that I would actually run into them were-_

"Hey, guys, get a load of this! It's Lincoln Loud!"

The sound of that voice sent a harsh, stinging chill up and down Lincoln's spine, causing him to drop his bags. He looked up to see that the path to Falcon Athletics was blocked by a wall of gold and crimson. The three jocks from the Roosters were lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, staring him down. This was the exact scenario he was dreading.

_You just had to jinx it, didn't you, Lincoln?_

Lincoln started hyperventilating as his heart pounded violently on his ribcage. All the fatigue he was feeling earlier was superseded by an overwhelming wave of panic. The whole time, he was praying that this was all just an incredibly vivid daydream.

"Oh, hey!" chirped Leni, greeting the three football players with a wave and a big, sunny smile. "Are these friends of yours, Lincoln?"

"I...um...well... I... uh..." babbled Lincoln, too paralyzed with fear to put a coherent thought together.

"We sure are!" the tall player said with a smarmy grin. "Or at least we're  _gonna_ be."

"Yeah, see, we just wanted to let him know that we ain't mad about the Hazeltucky Hockers game anymore," added the short one. "In fact, we want to invite him into our special friendship club!"

Upon hearing this, the tension in Lincoln's body eased up just a tad, although his gut was telling him that there was no way they were being sincere.

"But first, we gotta give him the Royal Woods Roosters Initiation!" said the average heighted one.

"The Royal Woods Roosters Initiation?" asked Leni. "What's that?"

"Well, I'm glad you asked!"

Before Lincoln could object, the short one grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him forward. The three jocks then proceeded to shove him back and forth into each others' arms, all while singing the Roosters' fight song.

_"All for one and one for all,_

_the Roosters all stand proud and tall!_

_Our fighting spirit can't be marred;_

_we'll block your strike and hit you back HARD!"_

Right on the last word, the short one rammed his fist into Lincoln's gut, knocking the wind out of him. Lincoln let out a piercing cry as he felt his stomach crumple from the impact. He began to double over in pain, but he scarcely had time to before the three players started shoving him around again- this time not even bothering with the song.

As soon as she heard Lincoln's yelp of pain, the smile on Leni's face melted away. "Hey, wait a second!" she cried, dropping her bags in shock. "You guys are... you're  _bullying_ him!"

The three jocks shared a loud, haughty cackle. "Careful, it's learning!" the tall one said with a sneer.

Leni's face tightened up into a stern glower. "You three better take your hands off him and leave him alone!" she demanded.

The three jocks just laughed and continued to shove Lincoln around.

"I mean it!" she snapped. Her small, elegant hands balled themselves into fists- a shape Lincoln had seldom seen them take. "You're really hurting him!"

Once again, the three of them paid her no heed- aside from the tall one, who flipped her off with one hand while he shoved Lincoln with the other.

"I  _said_ …"

Leni gritted her teeth and drew her fist back.

**"…leave. Him. ALONE!"**

She thrust her fist deep into the short one's belly. He immediately released Lincoln and collapsed onto the floor, clutching his stomach and making anguished choking noises.

An awkward silence had passed over the mall, as Leni's outburst got the attention of all the nearby shoppers. Lincoln backed away and rubbed his eyes, scarcely believing what he just saw.

After the shock wore off, the tall one stepped forward and threw a punch at the back of Leni's head. She pivoted 90 degrees, blocked the punch with her forearm and followed up with a vicious high kick that embedded her stiletto deep into his sternum. The jock was launched half a foot into the air before hitting the floor with a sickening thud.

Against his better judgment, the average one made a last-ditch attempt to avenge his teammates, throwing himself at Leni and aiming a punch right at her nose. Without missing a beat, she ducked under his arm, grabbed him by the wrist before he could withdraw his fist, and whipped him over her shoulder onto the floor below.

Right after she delivered that takedown, the fire in her eyes petered out and her fists unclenched as she walked over to console her little brother. "Are you all right?" she asked. "They didn't hurt you too bad, did they?"

"Wha…ba…fa…ga…" stuttered Lincoln, who was still trying to process what just happened.

"It's okay, Linky. I don't think they'll be bothering you anymore."

"AHEM," came a gruff voice from behind the two Louds.

The two of them turned around to see a stout, mustachioed security guard, crossing his arms and glaring down at them.

Leni forced herself into an awkward smile. "Oh, um... Tito! What a pleasant surprise!"

_Great._ _Now_ _the mall cop shows up._

Tito laid a hand on Leni's shoulder and walked her away from the crowd of onlookers. "Come on, Leni. Let's have a little chat."

As Tito and Leni left the scene, Lincoln grabbed all of their bags and shuffled after them, dreading what was to come.

"Listen, Leni, you're a good kid. And I know you were just trying to stick up for your little brother. But rules are rules, you know? And we can't have roughhousing on mall property. I'll let you off the hook just this once, but if it happens again, I'm not gonna be happy. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Leni said with a nod.

"Good."

Tito turned back to face the crowd of bystanders, all of whom had been watching them intently the whole time. "All right, the rest of you can just move along. Nothing to see here."

Slowly but surely, the shoppers dispersed, leaving only the three jocks, who were just starting to pick themselves up off the floor.

"And as for  _you_ three..." began Tito, only to see them skittering away from the premises like frightened mice.

"Hey, get back here, you punks!" he shouted, taking off in a dead sprint after them. "Hey! HEY!"

Once Tito left the scene and the shock began to wear off, Lincoln finally found the wherewithal to speak.

"Leni, what the heck  _was_ that?!" he cried.

"Oh, Linky, I'm sorry I got us in trouble," she said, breaking away from Lincoln's gaze and letting her head slump forward. "I was just trying to protect you."

"No, I mean- HOW?! How did you do all that stuff?! That was amazing!"

"Oh,  _that_?" asked Leni, her eyes snapping back to Lincoln's. "I mean, these are things a girl's just gotta know how to do. I learned that first year of high school."

Lincoln narrowed his eyes at her. "Explain."

"Well, like, I was in psychology class, and the teacher was talking about how our brains work, see? And, like, he said that when we're in danger, we have to choose between  _fight_ and  _flight_. But I can't fly, and plane tickets are, like,  _really_ expensive, so I figured I'd have to teach myself how to fight. So I did."

"Leni, I don't think that..." Lincoln began, only to stop himself short. Leni may have misunderstood her teacher's lesson about fight-or-flight response, but the result was that she picked up a practical and pretty cool skill. He saw no reason to try to take that away from her. Even so, there were just a couple of things about her story that didn't add up to him.

"Wait, you taught  _yourself_?"

"Yuh-huh!" she replied. "Well, for the most part anyway. I had some help from Lynn."

"But how come this is the first time I'm hearing about this?" he asked. "Why didn't you tell me you could fight like that?"

Leni shrugged. "I didn't learn those moves to show off, Lincoln. I learned them so I could protect myself."

She smiled warmly down at her little brother and ruffled his hair. "...and the people I care about."

Lincoln let out a contented sigh, feeling his heart slow back down to a healthy pace. Leni could make him feel a lot of different ways- amused, confused, frustrated, self-reflective, guilty, enchanted- but he never imagined that she could make him feel safe.

With that, the two of them walked into Falcon Athletics to complete their errand. But while the shock of seeing Leni take out those bullies had faded away, the image was still fresh in his mind. The whole time they were in the store, it was all he could think about. Occasionally, Leni would ask him a question, like what Lynn's favorite color was or whether she was left or right-handed. When she did, Lincoln would snap out of his daze, utter a hasty, breathless response, and go right back to daydreaming. This continued until they picked out a glove, paid for it and left the store (with a "thank you" to the clerk, of course).

"You look a little shaken, Linky," Leni remarked as they were leaving the store. She bent down and brushed some dirt off of his leather jacket, which was still disheveled and wrinkled from the scuffle. "Why don't you go to the bathroom and fix yourself up? I'll watch our stuff."

She pointed him in the direction of the nearest restroom, which was just a few doors down from Falcon Athletics.

Lincoln figured he could use a moment to compose himself, so he gave her a nod, dropped his bags, and speed-walked over to the bathroom. On his way over, he snuck a peek at his watch.

_1:45. We've got time._

Once he got inside, he walked right over to the sinks and gave himself a look in the mirror. His hair was almost as frazzled and unkempt as his jacket, and his brow was still damp with sweat.  _Boy, she wasn't kidding._

He turned on the faucet, scooped some water into his hands and splashed it into his face, rinsing off the sweat. He wasn't sure why, but the sensation of lukewarm tap water caressing his face had a sort of stabilizing effect on his mood; it could wake him up, but it could just as easily calm him down. Once his face was cleansed, he used his still-dripping hands to massage the water into his scalp, moistening it and smoothing it out. The water imbued his hair with a glistening sheen, not unlike hair gel.

But just after he dried himself off, straightened out his jacket and started towards the door, he felt two meaty hands grab him by the lapel and ram him into the bathroom wall. The next thing he knew, he was staring face-to-face with the tall jock, who had apparently given Tito the slip.

"This isn't over, Lincoln!" he shouted, his furious eyes boring into Lincoln's skull. "The coach is gonna hear about this, and once he does, you're  _dead_!"

Lincoln just raised an eyebrow at the seething bully and gave him a cocky smirk. "Oh, really?" he asked. "You're gonna tell your coach that you and your two friends all got your butts kicked by my fashion-obsessed sister?"

The jock's once-murderous grip on Lincoln's jacket started to weaken. "I-that-you-we-" he sputtered, as all the color drained from his face.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," sneered Lincoln, wriggling out of the jock's grip. "So do yourself a favor and just..."

In one smooth motion, he popped the collar on his leather jacket. "...sit on it."

And thus, with swagger in his step, Lincoln strutted out of the bathroom. That encounter gave him all the confidence and energy he needed to finish off the day. Whatever Leni had in store for him, he could handle it.

"So what's the last stop?" he asked, as he stepped up to Leni and snatched up half of their bags.

Leni just picked up the rest of their merchandise and started towards the escalator, inviting Lincoln to follow her.

"I said, what's the last stop?" Lincoln asked as he caught up with her. Again, no answer.

Leni's silent treatment was starting to worry Lincoln; he couldn't help but suspect that maybe he had done something wrong, though he couldn't imagine what. However, while they were riding the escalator down, Lincoln glanced over at his sister and saw that she was trying to suppress a smile. It was the same look that Luan got right before someone set off one of her pranks.

_Now I'm really confused_ , he thought.  _What the heck is going on?_

Lincoln's apprehension continued to grow for the next few minutes, as he let Leni lead him across the ground floor towards their final destination. Every time he looked at her, she was still wearing that unnaturally straight face: eyes forward, lips clamped shut. After a few minutes, he decided he couldn't take the suspense anymore.

"Leni, where are-"

"Here we are!" she sang, releasing the tension in her face and breaking out into an ear-to-ear grin. Right in front of them was a store marked by a glowing neon sign that read "Marcus Kane's Ice Cream Parlor" in cursive font, accompanied by a laughing clown holding a cone in each hand.

"You've been very patient today," said Leni. "I thought I'd treat you to some ice cream before we head back!"

For the third time that day, Lincoln got that tingling sensation of pride and satisfaction that left him feeling lighter than air. All the worry he was feeling a moment before was washed away by a torrent of pure, unadulterated happiness.

"Leni, I... I don't know what to say."

"Well, how about 'Thank you, Leni'?" she asked, maintaining her cheery tone. She wasn't trying to chide him; she was giving him an earnest suggestion.

Lincoln let out a sheepish chuckle. "Oh, of course."

He looked up at Leni, beaming as brightly as he could while his eyes twinkled with joy. "Thank you, Leni. You're the best sister ever."


	8. Conclusion to a Shopping Spree

Lincoln always had an affection for the mild, comforting climate of an ice cream store. It was  _just_ chilly enough to make his skin tingle with pleasure, like a cool breeze on a fall afternoon. Marcus Kane's Ice Cream Parlor, much to his delight, was no different.

He was somewhat less delighted to see that there was a sizable line leading up to the counter. On the positive side, it gave him ample time to check out the menu, which was painted on a big wooden board nailed to the wall behind the counter. From what he saw, the menu included most of the usual suspects- chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, mint, pistachio- along with a few gimmicky flavors that he didn't recognize. "Sweet Tooth," the flavor that marked the very bottom of the menu, was the one that intrigued him the most.

"Hey, Leni?" he asked, pointing towards the menu. "What's 'sweet tooth'?"

"It's, like, vanilla ice cream with swirls of caramel and raspberry filling," said Leni. "I know it sounds weird, but I think you'd like it."

It  _did_  sound a bit odd, but the more he thought about it, the more appealing it sounded. That, and Leni hadn't steered him wrong so far today, so why would this be any different?

After a couple minutes, they reached the end of the line, and were greeted by a pale, wiry man with a thick black beard, sunken cheeks and sharp, beady eyes. Lincoln felt a pang of unease, but repressed it for the sake of politeness.

"Heyyy, Ned!" sang Leni.

"Welcome back, Leni!" he sang back, in a light, sunny countertenor voice that belied his sketchy appearance. "Treating your little brother to ice cream, eh?"

Leni nodded.

"Well, isn't that sweet!" he said. "No pun intended, of course."

Lincoln felt his discomfort dissolve upon hearing Ned's jovial voice.  _I guess looks can be deceiving._

"So what'll it be this time?" he asked.

"Pistachio, please!" Leni announced, eliciting a chuckle from Lincoln. He was so tickled by the way she pronounced "pistachio", embellishing every syllable and letting it roll off her tongue. Almost every time they went out for ice cream, she'd order pistachio, and he couldn't tell if it was because she genuinely enjoyed the taste or if she just liked saying that word.

"And how about you, little man?" asked Ned, looking down at Lincoln with a smile that shone through his dense, shaggy beard.

"I'll take the sweet tooth, please!" said Lincoln, smiling back.

"Excellent choice. And I assume you're both gonna want cones?"

Both of them nodded simultaneously.

"Alright, then, coming right up."

With a grunt of effort, Ned dug out a big, bountiful scoop of ice cream from the freezer, plopped it down onto a sugar cone, and handed it off to Leni. A moment later, he did the same for Lincoln, and Lincoln immediately started to salivate. It looked even more tantalizing than he imagined, with thick, lustrous rivers of caramel and raspberry that cascaded down from the top of the scoop. It took every ounce of his willpower to wait until they sat down, or at least until Leni paid for them.

He watched eagerly as Leni slipped Ned a twenty, retrieved her change and gave him the obligatory "thank you." As soon as he heard Ned's response- "Enjoy your ice cream!" - it was time to chow down. He dashed over to an empty table, threw his bags down, collapsed into his chair and shoved his cone into his mouth.

What he tasted was  _astonishing._ Not only was it some of the richest, creamiest ice cream he had ever tasted, but the contrast between the sweet, gooey caramel and the tart, zesty raspberry provided for a truly unique taste experience, unlike anything he'd had before. From that point on, he deliberately slowed down his pace, letting every bite swirl around his mouth before swallowing. He knew he had to be back at the van by 2:30, but he didn't care; this was ice cream that demanded to be savored.

"Easy, Lincoln," Leni said with a giggle. "You're getting it all over your face!"

Lincoln let out a tiny gasp. The ice cream had so thoroughly entranced him that he didn't even notice Leni taking the seat opposite him. With a sheepish smirk, he picked up his napkin and started dabbing his face clean.

"It's good, right?" she asked. "I knew you'd like it!"

_"Like" is a bit of an understatement_ , thought Lincoln.  _This is exquisite_.

After polishing off their cones and bidding Ned goodbye, the two Louds hoisted up their bags, walked out the door and made their way back towards the mall entrance.

"We got a lot done today, didn't we?" asked Lincoln.

"Sure did!" piped Leni. "You were really helpful, by the way. Maybe I should take you shopping more often!"

Lincoln let out a nervous chuckle, unsure of how he felt about that prospect.

As they approached the front entrance, Lincoln had to squint at the harsh streams of natural light beaming in through the glass doors. After four and a half hours, his eyes had grown adjusted to the artificial lights of the mall, and he had almost forgotten how bright and sunny it was outside. Fortunately, once they exited the building, it only took a few moments for his eyes to get readjusted.

After they spotted Vanzilla in the parking lot (which didn't take long, since it dwarfed most of the other cars in the lot), they found Lori waiting for them in the driver's seat, with her hands on the wheel.

"2:25; right on time," she said, glancing at her watch. "Did you two have a good day?"

Leni responded with a vigorous nod.

"Get everything you need?"

Leni nodded again.

"Great. Get in."

But just as Lincoln was about to reach for the car door handle, Leni stopped him cold.

"Wait!" she cried.

Lori groaned and rolled her eyes. "What now?"

Leni dropped her bags and started rummaging through her purse. "I want to cash in another coupon," she said. "You never said I couldn't cash in two in one day, did you?"

"Well, technically, no..." began Lincoln, prompting a dirty look from Lori.

_Seriously, Leni? Now, of all times? What could you possibly-_

"Here it is!" she sang. She plucked a dark red slip of paper from her purse and proudly presented it to Lincoln.

_FREE HUG FROM LINCOLN_

Lincoln's heart melted into goo as soon as he saw the message. He dropped his bags, threw his arms around Leni and gave her a big squeeze.

A wide, borderline goofy grin spread across his face; while he loved giving hugs in general, there was something especially comforting he found about embracing someone bigger than he was. It made him feel secure, like nothing could bother him.

Leni squeezed him back, pressing his face deep into her tummy. "My little Linky," she whispered, rocking him back and forth in her arms. The two of them could have held that embrace for ages... if they weren't under a time constraint.

" _Ahem_ ," snapped Lori, rapping her watch with her pointer finger.

Leni and Lincoln hastily released their hug, snatched up all of their bags and piled into the van. They'd have plenty of time to cuddle at home.

On the drive home, while Lori and Leni gabbed in the front seat, Lincoln took the time to stare out the window and quietly reflect on the day. Ultimately, he was thankful that Leni had dragged him into this. He entered the mall that morning with a looming feeling of dread, but he left it with a sweet new leather jacket, freshly groomed nails, and most of all, a newfound feeling of respect for his absentminded big sister.

And it wasn't because of the epic smack down she laid on those bullies- not  _just_ because of that, at least. It was because, over the course of the day, he had actually  _learned_ something from her. Several things, as a matter of fact. He had learned that fashion and grooming weren't just for girls, that he shouldn't be afraid to share his feelings with Ronnie Anne, and that a little bit of kindness can make a world of difference. There really  _was_ more to her head than just air, after all.

Lincoln had little time to relax before Vanzilla pulled into the driveway- at which point, Lori left the driver's seat, flung open the back door and ordered him to get his butt inside. Not one to defy the eldest's commands, Lincoln used the little energy he had left to grab his bags and drag them into the house and up the stairs. Most of the merchandise he was carrying belonged to Leni, so he felt content to just leave it by her door.

But before he could make it back to his own room, his fuel tank ran dry. His legs buckled under his own weight, and he collapsed onto the floor. He tried to muster up the energy to pick himself back up, but it just wasn't happening. Fortunately, Leni made it to the top of the stairs before the situation got too dire.

"Aw, he's all tuckered out," she cooed. She bent down, slid her arms under him, hoisted him up and carried him back to his room. Halfway down the hall, Lincoln briefly opened his eyes, and was met with Leni's warm, loving gaze.

_Oh, Leni. What did we ever do to deserve a sister like you?_

Once she got to his room, she laid him down onto his bed and tucked him in, with all the gentleness and delicacy of a mother. Lincoln let out a deep, affectionate purr and wrapped himself up in his comforter like a cocoon, overjoyed to be back in his bed again. To cap it all off, Leni handed him Bun-Bun and sent him off to dreamland with a peck on the cheek.

"Have a nice nap, Linky," she whispered, flicking off the lights as she walked out. "You earned it."


End file.
